


Long Walk Home

by notabadday



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notabadday/pseuds/notabadday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Epsom Derby Day, Tommy has time to reflect on his feelings for Grace and of the events surrounding their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Long Walk Home

Tommy wept the long walk home.  
  
Grace loved him and there was going to be a baby. In a minute, that soldier’s minute, all ambition had drained out of him with the blood of the fallen marksmen. One minute of everything all at once.  
  
It had begun with his attempt to elevate the family, to protect them. He had wanted his real limited company, to make a proper man of himself for the lady; she didn't belong with a man like Thomas Shelby, after all. But then she left, and what else was there but to move up in the world? Take on the big city, he had decided. He never had been much too careful with betting on his own life and yet he knew how to play his hand. A baby, though. Not quite the expansion he had had in mind.  
  
With Epsom done, Tommy's monomaniacal scheming could be put to rest – for now, at least. The Peaky Blinders’ anarchic defeat of the Sabini empire would leave him in good stead with Solomon. He had come up trumps, even when the cards were stacked against him. It was done. He knew Campbell would be dead when he got back; he’d won. His greatest antagonist, even when Sabini was demanding Tommy’s head on a stick, Campbell would finally be dead.  
  
It was Grace who consumed his thoughts, though. Would she wait? It was an awfully long walk home.  
  
"Grace Shelby," he said quietly, smiling to himself at the unlikely notion. For the first time in a long time, he liked his odds. "Wouldn't that be a turn-up for the books..."  
  
He covered the beginnings of a smile with his hand, as though wanting to wipe it away before it stuck. He daren't get too carried away before he saw her again. He didn't allow himself to get caught up in fantasy. After France, the imagination had the power to do terrible things. No one messed with Tommy's head more than Grace, who for so long had been nothing more than his imagination. He tried not to think about her, tried to think about the business, but it was a long walk.  
  
All of the questions he had collected for her over their two year separation were replaced on his walk home by just one.  
  



	2. A Different Approach

"Grace," he said to the back of her head, having caught the blush pink of her dress, hazily remembered from their earlier encounter. She was standing awkwardly in an alcove in The Garrison, looking as incongruous as she had upon first arrival.  
  
She turned her head in a snap, closing the distance between them with urgency. "Where've you been, Thomas?" she asked, with the understanding that she would probably rather not know.  
  
The chaos of the races was undoubtedly his doing, she had deduced, and that had left her with justified concern after he hadn’t returned. She had seen Arthur, John and an unrecognisable Finn all indulgently sat around, counting their victories. Tommy’s absence had begun to distract her thoughts from the news that had brought her there.  
     
"Took a walk. Cleared my mind," he said, his accent firmly embedded in the sound of every syllable. His mood was unreadable. She noted the state of him, marked with mud and blood and clear disregard for both.  
  
"While you were gone, I met your friend," Grace told him, with trenchant coldness. Tommy knew her meaning.  
     
He listened, trying to gauge her reaction while his own expression remained still. He would let her determine the significance of that particular encounter, having little to offer in the way of explanation. They had each charted their separate paths, and somehow both ended up just as they were, with the same persistent longing drawing them back in. He demanded no excuse for Grace’s marriage, just as he offered none for his own affairs.  
  
"She informed me of your plans," Grace continued. "You're more ambitious than I remembered. You'll be the biggest bookmaker in the country just as soon as you decide to be, I'm sure. You'll be needing her to pull those strings for you with the licenses, will you not?"  
  
Tommy let her question hang for a moment, before replying with gentle assurance: "I was thinking I might pursue a different approach."  
  
"A different approach?"  
  
He observed the curiosity, the anxious glare in her eyes, and felt himself assured by her passionate interest. It reminded him of what they were, how they could be. It mirrored the feelings he concealed for her, the feelings that he had been carrying since he had first heard her sing. He edged closer still and replied, "Yes. I’ve nothing in mind yet but I was hoping you might... help me.”  
  
"Help you with what?"  
  
"All of it. The whole fucking thing."  
  
Grace smiled brightly, taking his hand and holding it acceptingly in her own. He looked at her with his trademark intensity, eyes bluer than ever against the blood stains that marked his skin. His smile was unusually relaxed, and as she gazed over his happy expression, the same look crept over her own face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Feedback always much appreciated.


End file.
